Ares

Chapter 27 || I should've never ever took her home.

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"She think she love me but I think she trollin', that girl is a real crowd pleaser. Small world all her friends know of me."
- Black Beatles X You Was Right, Lauren Sanderson.

Ares pulled his Jeep into the double drive of the new house and put it in park, dreading the next part of his evening. He turned off the ignition and sat in silence, staring at the house with visions of Grace dancing in his head. Her smile, the way she smelled, those eyes. They all made an appearance while crickets serenaded him from the darkness blanketing the bushes and grass. The windows on this side of the house were dark, fanning the flames of hope that Aphrodite had already gone to bed. She hadn't even remembered to leave the porch light on, which was fine by him. The last thing he wanted was to make small talk with her, or any other kind of talk for that matter. He just wanted to go curl up on the couch with tonight's memories as a blanket.

He took a deep breath of the warm night air and rolled up the electric windows, feeling like he was about to take a deep plunge into icy waters. Quietly, he shut the car door and stumbled up the drive, feeling drunk without having a single drop. He fumbled for his new key in the dark and gently unlocked the deadbolt with a soft click. There was no squeak when he opened the door and Ares was thankful for that. He stepped inside the foyer and his heart palpitated with a sudden burst of adrenaline shooting through his veins.

Aphrodite stood at the end of the hallway leading into the kitchen, where the light from a modern chandelier turned her into a darkened figure. Her silhouette didn't move. Neither did her shadow stretching to his feet. Ares shut the door and locked it, ignoring the way his heart was pounding against his ribcage. He turned back around, squinting down the hall, and held his hands out. "What?"

A moment of lingering silence answered him, sucking the air from the room. "Where have you been?" came from the shadow, its face as dark as the feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"My place to get my stuff. Remember?"

The shadow slinked closer on the wood floor between them and raised its voice. "For this long?"

"I couldn't find my briefcase. I must've left it work."

The darkness didn't reply.

"I hope I left it at work anyway," he chuckled nervously, hitting a light switch that dispelled the gloomy specter in a flash, bringing Aphrodite's sharp glower into living color.

She stepped closer, her arms folded across a white cami that stopped just above a pair of lavender panties. Her icy glare sharpened to a razor's edge. "Let me smell your dick."

Ares stared at her, disbelief stealing his wind. A modest grandfather clock behind him ticked off each painstaking second with a light click. His ears rang in his head. "What?"

"Your dick," she said louder, taking another step toward him. "Let me smell it."

His face twisted in the harsh foyer light. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Aphrodite stopped less than a foot away, sniffing at the air. "I can smell her on you," she whispered coldly.

The whirling ceiling fan in the living room hummed softly, barely fanning the sweat sprouting across his forehead.

"You're out of your mind," he said, pushing past her and tromping into the kitchen.

"Then why are you sweating?" she countered, following his every step.